~Jason's POV~
I pull up outside the hostel and kill the engine, the low purr of the McLaren fading into the quiet street. My fingers tap lightly on the steering wheel. I'm nervous—and I don't even know why.
Maybe it's because I still haven't told her the truth.
Or maybe… it's because she still looks at me like I'm her safe place, and I'm terrified of what happens when that illusion cracks.
The front door opens—and all my thoughts disappear.
She steps out onto the sidewalk, and for a second, everything else slows down.
Red crop top. Skin-tight jeans that hug every perfect line of her body. Her hair is tied back in a high ponytail, a few soft strands escaping around her face. She's laughing at something Karla says behind her, and the way her smile lights up—it nearly stops my damn heart.
She doesn't see me at first, just tucks her phone in her back pocket and adjusts the sleeve of her top.
And I just sit there in the driver's seat, staring like an idiot.
God, she's beautiful.
